Author notes: Sorry I haven't updated this particular fan fiction for so long. Anyone who reads my other fan fictions will know that I have been updating them, hence the long absence of this chapter. And I apologise to those of you who believed this would be chapter twelve- my mistake, I got confused. When I opened up all the previous chapters to recap what I'd done so far, I thought 'wtf? Where's chapter 11?' but then I realised that for the first time in my life I was wrong about something. Lol, I'm kidding. Oh and if you want to check out my public apology concerning 'When Love Comes Close', chapter three, then it's on my profile under 'progress'. Emma (brightsideoflife) told me that if I didn't apologise (if you want to know what for, then go ahead, have a look, I dare ya) then she wouldn't review. So I apologised. Publicly. On my profile. And guess what? She hasn't reviewed! Apparently, her computer wouldn't let her. Yeah, right. That's what they all say! Anyway, whatever. I hope you like this chapter. My muse made me write it. It's no fair, my muse ganged up on me with my subconscious mind and my writer's ego! No way could I win against that lot! Lol, anyway, enjoy! And review!

Chapter 11- Verbal Diarrhoea

Harry and Ginny gazed at each other for what could've been hours. They were both totally and utterly dumbfounded. Harry had been in a state of shock and despair because he had just pushed Ginny in front of a moving train. Ginny had been in a state of shock and despair because she had just pushed Harry in front of a moving train. And guess what was happening now? They had just met again, perfectly unscathed, just minutes after both incidents had happened. It was beyond weird. After a few minutes of silence, Harry spoke.

"I knew that wasn't really you," he whispered. "I knew the minute you spoke to me. And those eyes…"

"All glazed and absent," Ginny continued, whispering as if dark creatures would jump up on her if she spoke too loudly. "It was horrible, Harry. Like something out of a nightmare!"

Harry put a comforting arm around her shoulders, nodding his agreement.

"It was scary all right!" he said, and then frowned. "Gin…" he said tentatively, not wanting to scare her any more than she already had been, "I know you're a bit shocked and upset right now; I am too… but, well, I really think we should be thinking about what we're gonna to do to get out of this." He continued, "We're going to the police station, Gin. They think we're criminals. They think we're… murderers."

He said the last word so quietly that if they hadn't been in such a closely confined space, Ginny would have had trouble hearing him. But even if they had been a world away, she would still have known what he said, because she was having exactly the same thoughts as he was. She shivered, and he squeezed her tightly to his chest. She felt disgusting. Congealed blood covered both her hands, and it smelt strongly. She just wanted to be clean again. And she wanted to sleep. She wanted to go home. She had found what she had come out to find; Harry. And the two of them had never been closer than this moment in the back of a small police van, the smell of blood and sweat close to overwhelming. But this wasn't the end. They still had a hell of a journey ahead of them. And they both knew this. And they both hated this.

Back at the Burrow, Ginny's hand on the Weasley clock changed to 'DANGER'. At the same time, the picture frame sat in the middle of the kitchen table began to glow. It glowed brighter and brighter, so bright that if the Weasleys had been in the kitchen and not at the hospital, they would have had to shield their eyes. And when they looked back again, they would have seen a picture of Ginny and Harry, laughing and hugging. The picture was back; Harry and Ginny were together again. But as the clock showed; they were in great danger. As were the rest of the Weasley family.

Harry and Ginny felt the van stop. There was a crunch of feet on gravel, and then the back doors were thrown open and light poured in. Harry put a hand up to protect his eyes from the light, and he could see that the police officer standing before them looked confused.

"Do you two know each other?" he asked with a frown. As far as he was concerned, they were a couple of adolescent criminals curled up together in the back of a dirty police van. Without waiting for an answer, he motioned with his hand. "Get out. Both of you." His voice was not harsh, but it was commanding, and the two young delinquents did what he said. Not for the first time when he was confronted with a case like this, he found himself praying to God that this had all been a horrible misunderstanding. He didn't like dealing with kids. And nine times out of ten? God was unforgiving. These cases didn't look much better; there had been plenty of witnesses, enough to get them holed up in a Criminal Youth Institution for a long, long time. The officer sighed. This was the part he hated most about his job.

He took the two teenagers by the hand and led them into a dimly lit reception area. He nodded to Miss. Mackay, the receptionist, and she pressed a button in front of her. At once, a pair of polished doors slid open with a hiss, and the officer walked his prisoners through. Once they were inside the grey hallway, the doors slid shut behind them. They walked through into a nothing grey room, and the officer vaguely waved a hand at them, telling them to sit down. He took a clipboard handed to him by another, younger, officer, and stared pointedly at Ginny.

"Name?" he demanded.

Ginny gulped. "Ginevra Molly Weasley." She said, her voice shaking. Harry had never heard her speak her full name before. He smiled as she said it; her voice was like music to his ears, every vowel and every consonant were pronounced perfectly, despite the fact that she was shaking badly. The officer turned to him.

"And yours?" he asked, all pretence of politeness shaken off now that he was back where he preferred; in the building.

"We're innocent!" Harry shouted. He didn't know why he said it. He didn't mean to. "Sorry," he said, when the officer glared at him. "Harry James Weasley. I mean- Harry James Potter." What was going on? It was like some kind of verbal diarrhoea! He was obviously just nervous. He didn't think the officer had taken too kindly to him.

"Could you just confirm to me that your name is Harry James Potter?" the officer asked.

"That's right." Harry replied, licking his dry lips.

"I'm Officer Harshall." He said, speaking to them both now. "I'm afraid you'll have to be locked in some of the rooms down the hall-" he gestured to the door that the younger (and noticeably less experienced) officer was standing nervously next to, watching the whole process as if he'd suddenly find a knife sticking out his back. "- and I'll give you the choice; you can either have separate rooms, or you can share one, seeing as how you seem to know each other. If you were adults, you wouldn't get that choice, but we understand that kids need emotional support." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Yes please, Officer Harshall." Ginny said. Harry marvelled at this; he had forgotten the git's name as soon as he said it! In one ear, out the other. Ginny carried on. "We'd like to share a room, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind, but no funny business, yeh? If I hear of any funny business, then wham, you'll be as separate as chalk and cheese. You get my meaning?" he said, raising his eyebrows. They got his meaning. "Ok, Riser," he turned to the younger officer. "It's over to you!" he smiled his toothy smiled. 'Riser' looked visibly scared. Then he put on a professional face, and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

"Come on you two," he said. "Let's get you sorted."

They walked in silence for a while, down the ever-grey corridor. They passed numerous grey door, each one with a silver number painted on the front. It was a very foreboding place. Well, what would you expect, from a police station? Harry could take the depressing silence no more. He cast around desperately for something to say, something to comment on.

"So… 'Riser'," he began slowly.

"Darren." The young officer interrupted shortly. His expression was cast in iron; if you hadn't have heard him speak, you wouldn't of known it at all.

"Pardon?"

"Darren. Call me Darren."

"Oh, right. So… Darren." Harry started again. "You have any idea what is going to happen to us?"

Darren sighed, and stopped walking next to a door marked '16'. He produced a bunch of keys, fumbled around trying to find the right one, unlocked the door, and stepped back to let Harry and Ginny inside. Then he answered the question.

"Well, I don't really know much about your case. But I'm guessing an officer will come to question you tomorrow morning. There'll be enquiries. Maybe you'll get a trial date." He shrugged, and then shut the cell door, with an ominous clang that made both its occupants shudder in terror. They heard the key scraping in the lock, and the steady footfall of Darren Riser walking away from them. For a brief moment, Harry wondered if Darren would help them out. But then he shrugged the thought away. For him, it was just another day at work. The likely hood was that when he got home he would have forgotten all about them.

Harry sighed, and Ginny did likewise. They looked around the bare cell. All that was in there was the bunk bed (which they were perched on the bottom of), a sink (with only one tap; who bets that it was a cold tap), and two bright red pee buckets in opposite corners (for emergencies in the night). They hadn't been left with much instruction, apart from a laminated card tacked to the wall. Harry walked over to it. It read:

Breakfast will be brought at 7- 30. Lunch will be brought at 1- 30. Dinner will be brought at 6- 30.

That was it. Harry shuddered as his thoughts turned to wondering how long they would have to stay in this horrible cell. He wondered how many of these meals he would have to endure. He looked at his watch, and found out the time; 5- 30. He and Ginny would have an hour in this dank room, without any company but each other. At least they had each other. Harry remembered Officer Harshall's warning; no funny business, yeh? If I hear of any funny business, then wham, you'll be as separate as chalk and cheese. Harry didn't doubt that what he had said was true; he was an imposing man, he seemed to hold a lot of power, and Harry had just noticed a security camera fixing its beady eye on him. Whatever was going to happen to them?

Author Notes: I got Darren Riser from my mate… Darren Riser! Lol, he told me he wanted to work with the police when he grew up, so I thought he was perfect! I hope you liked this chapter; please review it! I should be getting another chapter of 'Harry Potter and the Chime of the Warrior' done next. Review!